‘I only know him as a colleague at work. He’s a quiet little man. I suppose you could say I’ve always felt a bit sorry for him.’

Patrick’s eyebrows rose.

A quiet little man? He wouldn’t be quiet when he got his hands on him. He’d be screaming his head off.

He already had the make and reg of Markham’s car. That had been the easy bit. The hard bit was finding out where the hell the little bastard was. But if he could locate the car, he could locate George Markham.

Until then, he would hound everyone he could. Use force if necessary.

All his men had the description and details of George Markham’s car. He had been on to some friends in the Met and they were looking for it as well. Something had to give eventually.

Then he would have him in the palm of his hand.

Twenty minutes later, he dropped off Peter Renshaw outside Kortone Separates. It had been obvious he knew nothing of importance. Except that George was not coming back to work.

There was something going on here. Where was the wife? Was she with him? If so, they were looking for a couple.

In that case, Patrick would either have to get rid of her, or abduct George off the street.

Either way he’d get him.

Then the news of the murders came on the radio. Willy turned it up and put it over the intercom. Patrick listened as the newscaster’s voice droned on. He felt a coldness in his bowels. At the mention of the child he locked eyes with Willy in the mirror on the windscreen.

The filthy bastard!

It only added incentive.

Patrick felt Willy put his foot down and settled himself back in his seat. He stared at the passing scenery and then pulled the address book from his pocket.

‘I think the brother’s house next, Willy. We’ll drag him out if necessary, and fuck the consequences. No more pussy footing around.’

Willy nodded. Those were his thoughts entirely.

Joseph had been ringing around all morning. Yellow Pages was choc-a-bloc with nursing homes. Like all good businessmen he was finding out the rates before committing himself. Eighty-one his mother might be, but she could live for a good while yet. The council had informed him that she was not their responsibility and he had wondered briefly if they had ever met her. Once people had they generally kept well away.

She was shouting at Lily at the moment and the sound went through his skull. His wife had taken the school bell from her and now Nancy was demanding its return.

Lily had changed overnight. It was as if knowledge of his mother’s past had wiped away all fear of her.

He picked up the phone and began to dial the number of the Twilight Home for the Elderly.